We enjoy a breakfast together at the bar and talk for a long time about his surfing and rock-climbing and cliff-diving, where I learn that if anyone is more prone to being injured, out of all of Luke’s friends, Seth apparently takes the trophy.
“Nothing can kill the guy though,” Luke said. “He’s broken several bones, ruptured his spleen in a motorcycle accident, and almost drowned surfing.”
“Geez, what the hell is wrong with him?” I asked.
“Seth is just Seth—he wouldn’t know how to live any other way. But he’s generally safe, too. He’s just accident prone by nature, not reckless by choice.”
But the extent of Luke’s injuries in the years he’s been into all this wild outdoors stuff is a broken toe and some scrapes and bruises.
And this too fills me with a sense of relief.
Not a full sense, but a sense nonetheless.
Luke
We finally get a break from the rain. I take Sienna out to the waves behind my house later, where we surf until the sun begins to set. She’s getting better at surfing, but I have to admit, I like it when she falls. It’s cute because she’s so dramatic about it sometimes, and she screams and laughs and I have another reason to either rush to her side and put my hands on her, or to hang back and make fun of her.
“What’s wrong with you, girl?” I shout from my board over the sound of the waves. “No giving up early! Pull that bikini out of your butt crack and get back out here!”
She cackles and then flips me off. She drops her board on the sand and plops down next to it. I paddle my way closer and walk out after her with my board secured underneath my arm. I sit beside her on the sand and we watch the sun begin to sink into the ocean.
I think heavily about our conversation this morning—I’ve been thinking about it all day, in fact—and I feel really good about her acceptance of my lifestyle.
What she knows of it anyway.
“Luke?” Sienna says and I look over. “I just want you to know that just because I’m staying here and all that, you don’t have to drop everything else.”
“What are you talking about?”
She taps her knee against mine, both of us sitting with our legs drawn up, our arms wrapped around them, hooked loosely by our fingers.
“Come on,” she says. “I know it wasn’t exactly something you planned, and I don’t expect you to set everything else aside that you normally do just to cater to me, you know what I mean?”
I smile and tap her back with my knee.
“I know, but I want to. You’re my guest, and I need that five-star rating.” I grin and look out ahead and add, “If you rate my services badly, I’ll never get another girl to stay here on vacation.”
The sound of air bursting shortly from her throat is light. My grin deepens, satisfied I got the reaction I was looking for.
“So is that what you’re gonna do when I leave?” she asks suspiciously, playfully.
Turning my head to see her on my left, I just smile and shrug my shoulders.
“I dunno,” I tell her. “I mean look how great things are going between the two of us. I could really get used to this kind of company.” It was meant to be laced with suggestion.
She drops her bare legs into a crossed position and her shoulders slump forward. Her hands rest in the hollow of her lap. I love that black bikini—a little too much—how it hugs her perfect breasts, which would fit nicely in my hands …
Shake it off, Luke.
“Maybe I want to be your only guest,” she says cautiously, keeping her eyes on the fading ball of fire being swallowed up by the ocean. I can tell that was hard for her to say, the same way it’s been hard for me to kiss her—it’s something I always want to do, but I’m still testing the waters and I’m never sure how she’s going to react to it.
“Honestly, I’d kind of love it if you were the only guest.”
We barely look over at each other, but as briefly as our eyes meet, it’s plain that we’re both smiling.
Suddenly I take a deep breath; the urge to take the plunge becomes important and hits me unexpectedly. The need to lay everything out on the table is finally at its peak, forcing me to the edge of the cliff as if for the first time. My heart is pounding, my shoulders feel tense, and my throat is dry. I see the drop-off out ahead, beckoning me. The urge to run to the edge and leap off has never been stronger, but the thought remains in the back of my mind that if I take that plunge I may never come back from it. I don’t want that to happen with Sienna, but maybe Seth was right. She is different—maybe she’ll surprise me.
It’s in this moment that I decide to tell her what I’ve been not only afraid to, but have been trying to make sure if it’s even necessary. She likes me enough that I think it is.
“You know what would be awesome?” she asks, snapping me out of my contemplation.
“What?”
“We have a sunset, an ocean, and a beach.” She smiles and leans over sideways, laying her head on my shoulder. “All that’s missing is a good drink.”
“You want a beer?” I ask, agreeing.
“Whatever you have,” she says.
I lean over and press my lips to the top of her hair. “Then a beer you’ll get.” I push myself to my feet and hurry off through the sand back toward the house, leaving her sitting on the beach. A beer is a good idea, if not for anything than just to loosen me up some. Because I’m going to tell her tonight, when I go back out to sit with her on the beach. It’s odd, but even though I’m nervous as hell because I don’t want to scare Sienna off, I think I’m just as excited.